Even in the cold, I feel like I’m burning.

The gentle mists from the fountains do nothing to drown my nerves. All the sounds, the splashing water and shoppers filling the city’s main square, are static. Loud, grating static. Like a tech that’s not been drawn quite right. Meaning I probably drew it. Tavius reassured us a hundred times that this was all routine. In fact, being so public was better. More eyes if things go south, and then we play dumb. Simple. Somewhere in my head I know how easy this will be, but it doesn’t help. I feel a gentle poke in my arm, and fall out of my skin.

Next to me, Corten catches the dramatic reaction, “Are you gonna be okay?”

“Me?” I shoot back too loudly. Remembering the distracted public I lower my voice, “What makes you think I’m not?”

I’m tempted to frame the look Corten gives me. “First off, you haven’t heard a word I said since we got to the square.”

“Sounds pretty normal,” I shrug. The black slat is still in his hand, delicately sketched runes glowing white on the back, and a blinking, perfectly rendered screen reflecting light on Corten’s face. He had been going on about the client we are meeting since we left our shop in the market district. Little did he know, I actually hadn’t heard a word since the moment we stepped out the door. Dealing with people was his specialty, his role, and I had received my one and most crucial instruction already – don’t make a scene. Still, Corten thought it best I know.

Or he enjoys hearing himself talk, since he already knows I hadn’t paid attention to any of it. “And, you’re doing it again,” he replies blankly, and points to my hand.

Hovering over my side, my hand is already in an armed position. Prepared to draw my sword before anything deserved it. When he points it out, I drop it, but feel it tingle at my side. “So?”

“It’s a meeting, Clarity,” he mutters, but there’s no surprise. He expects this. I expect it. Somewhere I’m sure Tavius is counting my movements like clockwork. When the nerves play, it’s hard for me to stop it.

I breath in the over-clean mist, enjoying the coolness on my lungs before it evaporates. Now holding my attention, Corten continues, “The Senator represents our district, so Tavius says if anyone asks or interrupts, just pretend to be a constituent.”

“Doesn’t it strike you as strange that a Senator is hiring a mercenary to hunt a dragon?” I ask, pretending not to see Corten roll his eyes, “Why not ask the military?”

Corten gives me a gentle shove, keeping his voice to an angry hush, “We talked about this. First off, the government hires outside people all the time, especially for you know, delicate matters. And second, rule sixty-eight, don’t ask ‘why’ questions.”

“Why?” I make a fake pout, then stifle a laugh when Corten’s brown eyes flash a little red. It douses itself fast enough. Corten would never admit it, but he can’t stay mad at me for any length of time. We are as close as a brother and sister. Even though we wear all the marks of our homelands – Corten’s dark, marble-smooth skin and deep eyes from the deserts of Vast, and my brown skin, thick curls, and incredible height from the Basin – people have frequently mistaken us for siblings. Better than to mistake us for lovers, I guess. Though when we introduce pale, slender-haired Tavius as our father, they get especially confused.

Corten clears his throat, electing to say nothing to my clever and hilarious remark. “All she told Tavius over communications is the dragon is near Yin. I’ll deal with gathering all the info though. Just keep an eye out – if for some reason it’s a setup, which it isn’t, so don’t pick up your hand,” Corten points to my hand which stayed obediently in place. I mean, it twitches, but he doesn’t need to know. He continues, “Keep those dragon eyes open, is all you need to do.”

“Don’t call them that,” I groan.

“Well, is there a better way to describe them?” Corten gestures to my eyes and I become far too aware of their gold glow on my cheeks. There is no better way – it’s the dragon’s spirit that makes them gold, so by all accounts they are dragon eyes. Some irrational piece of me just thinks if I deny it, people won’t stare at them. Or worse, ask about them. There’s nothing illegal about being dragonblessed, but it is not an exceedingly common thing either. In fact, I’d never met another dragonblessed person. Most people who encounter dragons either encounter them at the end of a sword, or never encounter anything ever again. They’re treacherous destroyers of humanity.

Which is why it’s all the more curious one would sacrifice herself to help a little girl survive the desert.

Beyond the eyes, it doesn’t bother me. I notice it in my strength, my senses, but without that mark, I may have even let myself forget.

Stolen novel; please report.

The rest of the world ensures I don’t.

“Look alive,” Corten stands upright and nods past me. Over my shoulder, I see a woman in fine red, leggings shimmering like gemstones and curly white hair drawn up like a crown on her head. Elderly but refined, even beautiful. “Senator Yvonna is here.”

Flanking on either side of the Senator are two younger assistants, one wearing a navy suit and glasses with runes drawn across the frames. The lenses flicker with activity and I feel suddenly violated. The other wears the thick black uniform of the Scouts, the highest law enforcement of humanity. Usually they only worry about dragons. Either the Senator thinks we’re as threatening as dragons, or this is a setup after all. “Hello, young ones,” a ruby red smile appears, genuine like a mask.

Corten gives a gracious nod of the head and tries to nudge me to do the same. I have no idea if I succeed, or look awkward in the process. “Senator, we are-”

“Master Tavius’ young apprentices,” she replies, sweetness dripping in her words, “I apologize. I had imagined you a bit older. For as highly as he spoke of you.” As she says, she glances at me. Her eyes linger too long. I know why. “Permit me, young lady, I notice you are marked.”

I swallow. People aren’t shy about pointing it out, but they are not usually so direct. “I prefer people not mention it.”

“Clarity!” Corten hisses back. If that was rude, then I don’t want to be polite.

Yvonna isn’t offended, or at least hides it well, humming a soft laugh, “I understand. I am sorry to bring it up then. Shall we move on to business…” she looks back at Corten, trailing off.

“Corten,” he replies, exhaling like he almost suffocated on his breath, “This is Clarity.”

“A pleasure,” she replies then reaches behind her, to her navy suited assistant. She produces what appears to be a bracelet, but gaudier and covered in runes. Some are so complex I can hardly make out what they mean. Corten’s goes bug-eyed at the sight – he knows runes better than anyone I’ve ever met. If even he is stunned, this tech must be incredible. “This is a bracer, very high end. We’ve been testing it in our military, but as Chairwoman of Military Technological Defenses, I managed to secure one. I believe you’ll find it makes your task much easier,” she prods at one of the shiny black beads, and from it an image is projected.

In the Senator’s gentle hand, a white dragon appeared, flying in place. My neck goes hot. “That’s our target, I take it.”

“Indeed,” Yvonna activates a few more runes, and details beginning flying by faster than I can keep up. The words reflect off Corten’s eyes as he absorbs it all. “She has been sighted in the villas of Cliffsedge. She’s not attacked anyone yet but proven a bit of a nuisance. I would like her to be captured alive.”

At once the projections collapse and the red glow of the runes fade. Alive. “You know what slayers do right?”

Corten jabs me again, this time hard enough I flinch. Is it such a wrong question? Yvonna chuckles, “Of course. But Tavius already assured me it can be handled. And I have faith in such an infamous master of the craft. Certainly, I have faith in anyone who works with him, as well.”

“With all respect, Senator Yvonna,” Corten starts. All the unease in his voice makes me queasy – he’s not meant to be the uneasy one. “How can we be sure holding that kind of tech won’t make us, government targets.”

As he speaks, he eyes the Scout, a man with thin green eyes and dark olive skin. The Scout doesn’t react at all. Yvonna waves a hand and holds the bracer out for Corten to take. He looks at it like it is a desert havlin ready to bite him at any moment. “I have taken all the precautions with this particular one. All our bracers are only traceable by whoever engraves them. And this one,” as she turns the bracer, I find the one space where there is no rune. Only the blank, perfectly smooth metal. “This one is not yet engraved. Normally the commanding officer would. Your commanding officer, however, is Tavius. So, I trust he will handle it.”

Given her reassurance, Corten timidly takes it. For a split second it glows white, his spirit powering them for the first time. He stares at it like it’s made of pure beauty, not rocks. Yvonna continues, “I will communicate a meeting point afterwards with Tavius. My associate,” she gestures to the Scout, “Will deal with the transfer. Obviously, he is better equipped.”

“Thank you, Senator Yvonna,” Corten bows again. At this point, others are starting to look. I hear one mention the Senator by name. “Anything else we should know.”

“Oh well you know,” Yvonna’s volume increases. She noticed the peering eyes as well, “If you want a job in politics, get a start on it early and I am always looking for good people in my office.” Her assistant nods along with the charade, and a few people look away, suddenly uninterested. She shares a wink and whispers, “Good luck, young slayers,” before leaving with a dramatic wave. I watch her leave and disappear into the crowds as if she were a ghost.

When I look back, Corten is still gawking at the bracer. “Corten if you love it so much, what not bind with it spiritually?”

“Maybe I will,” Corten spits back, grinning, “I can’t wait to take this thing apart.”

“A Senator just gave you probably one of the most high-tech pieces of equipment in the world right now and your first thought is to take it apart?”

“Of course!” Corten replies indignantly, then whispers, “Besides. I want to make absolutely sure it's clean.”

That makes more sense. Besides, if he takes it apart, he can probably recreate it. My concern is he’ll accidentally break it first. “Only take it apart enough to figure that out, alright? At least for now. You can destroy it later.”

Corten pouts. But unfortunately, it doesn’t work as well the other way around. I fold my arms and stare down at him until he throws his hands out in defeat, “Fine. I’ll wait.”

“Can we please go home now?” There are more looks. They were looking at the Senator but noticed who she was talking too. The tall, scraggly girl with the gold eyes. Hopefully none of them decide to make me a headline question. “Is Senator Recruiting Dragon Girl?”

Corten slides the bracer on his wrist, hiding it under his jacket. “Better to get going, yeah.” He taps my palm, leading us on and out of the mists of the city square, into the markets of the city Yin, to plan the capture of a dragon.